Betrayal of Trust

by London St Charles

  “What’s going on? Is Victoria there?” Sierra inquired, her voice quivering. “Mr. Alexander said a woman he’d never seen before had entered my house.”

  “Really.” Cedrick snorted, outdone by the audacity of his nosey neighbor.

  Mr. Alexander never minded his own business. It’s a good thing Cedrick didn’t have anything to hide. Or did he?

  “I don’t have much time to talk before Yvonne comes back to her desk,” Sierra mumbled in a hushed voice. “Yvonne told me Victoria had asked her for my address, then got huffy when she refused to give it to her. Then she overheard Wilkerson’s assistant, give her my information.” Sierra sighed into the phone. “It’s taking every restraint I have not to confront her.”

  “Don’t,” Cedrick warned, squinting in the bathroom mirror, rubbing the colorful sticky substance from his lips. “It’ll stir things up between you and Yvonne.”

  “True, but she needs to be reported,” Sierra countered. “How many times has she given out employees or a client’s personal information before?”

  “I don’t know, but to answer your first question,” Cedrick began, stretching his lips, checking the corners of his mouth to make sure all the evidence of Victoria’s lipstick had been wiped away. “Victoria did stop by.”

  “What did she want?”

  “Long story short, to know why I didn’t tell you about her,” he said, washing his hands. “The conversation didn’t go well. She misinterpreted what I was trying to say and stormed out.”

  Cedrick wasn’t sure if he should tell Sierra about the kiss.

  “You need to call her and see what she knows.”

  “What?”

  “Just to be on the safe side,” Sierra emphasized with a questioning tone. “I know she was here on business, but make sure that’s all she was here for, you feel me?”

  “I’d rather not.”

  “You said she was your best friend and helped you during that time, correct?” Sierra countered, but not waiting for a response. “You need to call her back. Do it now.”

  Cedrick gnawed his inner jaw until he pierced the flesh. “Babe, I really don’t want to do this. I don’t know what Victoria’s true intentions are. In all the years you’ve worked for Edward, she’s never been a part of anything going on at the firm. But now, all of a sudden around the anniversary of my dad’s–––” Cedrick paused to gather himself. The veins in his neck pulsated and pain shot upward causing the back of his head to hurt. “She shows up.”

  “That’s why you need to–––”

  “And Mitch is a cop?”

  “Who’s Mitch?”

  “Victoria’s dad,” Cedrick replied, walking over to the coffee table and picking up the broken pieces of glass.

  Each piece represented the unknown factors in his life: uncertainty, his future, his freedom. The only thing Cedrick was sure of was his love for Sierra.

  After a moment’s pause, Sierra responded, “No worries. I’ll see you when I get home. Yvonne’s back.”

  * * *

  Sierra hung up the phone just as Yvonne walked the short distance to her desk and fired up the computer. “Thanks for looking out.”

  “No problem, girlfriend. Obviously, Victoria didn’t know we were friends. I don’t know her and don’t care who she is,” Yvonne said, twisting an ink pen between her fingers. “I wasn’t telling her anything.”

  Sierra smiled, appreciating her coworker and friend’s loyalty as her fingers glided across the keyboard. She pulled the Eastside Development document up on the screen and scanned the contacts on the account.

  “I’ll show Victoria Banks how it’s done,” Sierra mumbled to herself, jotting down her phone number.

  She’d take care of things. The apprehensiveness in Cedrick’s voice was hard to miss, and she should’ve known better. It was too soon to ask that of him. Although he seemed okay on the outside, she knew he was still healing. He’d carried that burden by himself long enough. Now, it was Sierra’s turn to protect their family.

  She pressed the button for the elevator with car keys and lunch sack in hand. Complete privacy didn’t exist in the office, except for the attorney’s suite and she didn’t have a legitimate reason to be in there.

  Sierra entered the parking garage, thankful that the car was parked near the outer wall so that she could get a cell signal. She slid in the passenger’s seat and emptied the contents of her lunch sack on the opposite seat.

  After starting the car, the phone automatically switched to Bluetooth, connecting her cell to the interior speakers. She punched in Victoria’s number and released a breath she wasn’t aware she’d been holding. Not sure of what to expect once Victoria answered gave her anxiety, leaving her apprehensive like Cedrick. What would happen if she knew the truth?

  “Hello. Who’s this?” Victoria answered, sounding less than friendly.

  For Victoria to be a professional woman, her gruff greeting startled Sierra.

  “Sierra Dalton. Cedrick’s wife.”

  “Hey.” Victoria hesitated. “This is unexpected. Cedrick must’ve given you my number.”

  “No,” Sierra responded, unfastening a Ziploc bag.

  “Then how did–––”

  “The same way you obtained my address,” Sierra shot back in a less than favorable tone, popping a grape in her mouth.

  Sierra made sure Victoria understood that she knew what she did. Also, that her husband didn’t keep any secrets from her, they were on one accord.

  “Kind of sucks, doesn’t it?” Sierra commented, not looking for a response, but rather to put something on Victoria’s mind. “What was so important for you to make an unannounced house call?”

  “I …”

  “Is there something you had to tell him? Or was there anything you needed to know, besides Cedrick not talking to me about you?” Sierra turned up a bottle of water, waiting for her response.

  “I don’t wanna come off as some crazy chick from his past. It’s nothing like that,” Victoria implored. “Cedrick’s still my best friend, even though we haven’t talked in years. I didn’t know if he was dead, in jail, or what. He just disappeared from …”

  “Reno.” Sierra completed Victoria’s sentence.

  “Yeah,” she replied, clearing her throat. “When I bumped into you at Edward’s office, I got the impression you didn’t know he was from Reno.”

  Victoria’s observance was spot on, but Sierra wasn’t going to confirm anything.

  “Your presence caught me off guard,” Sierra said, screwing the top on the empty water bottle. “I knew Edward’s daughter-in-law’s name was Victoria. I didn’t know Cedrick’s friend, Victoria Weiss and Lennox’s wife, Victoria Banks, were one and the same. I’d never met anyone from Cedrick’s hometown, besides his mother. I didn’t have anyone to compare you to, except at the restaurant. Why’d you lie about knowing Cedrick?”

  “… he asked me to.”

  Sierra opened her mouth to object but clamped down. Cedrick was so quick to get out of Chef Brasseur’s restaurant that afternoon––– she believed Victoria.

  “My only agenda is to reconnect with an old friend. If I were in your–––” Victoria paused. “Let’s say; I can understand your guard being up. A woman you’ve never met before, falling into your husband’s life. It seems suspect.”

  “Very much so,” Sierra admitted relaxing a bit.

  They talked for another ten minutes. Sierra found Victoria to be harmless and amusing. In Sierra’s gut, she believed this woman meant Cedrick nor her family any harm, so she extended an olive branch in hopes to ease Cedrick’s mind.

  “Thanksgiving’s next week. If you’re still in town, you and Lennox should join us for dinner. Cedrick smokes a turkey that’ll make you slap your momma; it’s so delicious and juicy.”

  “Oooo, how could I turn down that invite? Sounds scrumptious,” Victoria said in an airy voice. “I’ll most likely be flying solo, pun intended.” She giggled. “Lennox is a pilot with Southwest Airlin
es. He never has Thanksgiving off.”

  “Then it’s a go. I’ll let you know what time dinner will be served.”

  Sierra ended the call, gathered her things, then headed back inside. She prided herself on being a good judge of character. She hoped this wasn’t the one time her senses failed her.

  Chapter 11

  “I still can’t believe she invited Victoria,” Cedrick said to his mother as he set an extra place setting at the dining room table.

  “Well, I’m excited to see her,” Priscilla said, bouncing Lena on her lap. “I’ve always been curious to see what she’d become. That little girl ran around with you boys, with building blocks stuffed in her pockets and a roll of paper towels under her arm.”

  “I remember that.” Cedrick chuckled, squeezing Lena’s chubby cheeks. “Victoria drew blueprints of all the homes on the block on that roll of paper towels, then laminated them. She swore she’d be an architect someday.”

  “She’s a darn good one, too from the looks of the Eastside Project design,” Sierra chimed in, walking into the dining room with Carrington on her heels, carrying a festive centerpiece.

  Cedrick glanced at Sierra and shook his head. She returned his pointed gaze.

  “It’s a shame Marva isn’t going to be with us this Thanksgiving,” Priscilla mentioned, breaking the unspoken tension.

  “I’m missing my mom already,” Sierra said, putting her focus on the harvest colored floral arrangement. “But if I’d won a free trip to the Caribbean, I’d be sipping a Piña Colada in a string bikini, saying happy Thanksgiving while digging my feet in the white sand too.”

  “Granny should’ve taken me with her,” Carrington beamed, smacking her lips. “I could fit in her suitcase. Nobody would even know I was there.”

  “You’re trying to get your granny locked up?” Cedrick teased. “She can’t be smuggling kids out of the country.”

  “She might get away with getting her out the country,” Sierra added, stepping back, gazing at the centerpiece. “But she will catch H. E. L. L. trying to get her back in. You know U. S. customs and border protection is a trip. Remember when they pulled me out of line at the airport on our way back from Nassau? They quadruple checked my passport and luggage and patted me down like a criminal.”

  “How could I forget our honeymoon.” Cedrick grinned. “We’d been married all of seventy-two hours, and I was about to lose my wife over a piece of fruit.”

  Everyone burst out in hearty laughter.

  “Heyyyy.” Sierra shrugged. “I didn’t know you couldn’t bring fresh fruits and veggies into the states.”

  “Mom, you’re funny,” Carrington teased. “I learned about that in my social science class. Plant pests and diseases can be in the fruit and cause an outbreak like it did in the 1980s. All it takes is one piece of infected fruit, Mommy.”

  “Well,” Sierra smirked, reaching over the table to shift the centerpiece more to the left so it’ll be perfect. “I’ll remember that next time.”

  “And Mommy, you didn’t have to spell out hell, it’s not a bad word. It’s in the bible.”

  Sierra placed a hand on the back of the chair, then pointed to Cedrick. “You better get your daughter before we have one less thing to be thankful for.”

  “Watch it, Carrington.” He whacked her upper arm with a cloth napkin. “Technic–––”

  The doorbell rang, rendering Cedrick silent.

  “I’ll get it.” Carrington turned to bolt toward the front room, but Cedrick grabbed her arm.

  “I got it,” he glanced at Sierra, and she followed him to the front door. “I pray you know what you’re doing.”

  Sierra slid her hand in his and squeezed. “There’s only one way to find out,” she remarked, reaching for the knob.

  “Hey.” Victoria waved. “I hope it’s okay that I brought a plus one.”

  Cedrick glared at the man who was more of a father to him than his dad ever was. Though salt and pepper, Mitch Weiss looked the same. Broad shoulders that commanded attention through his tweed coat, strong jawline, and understanding mocha eyes that pierced your soul.

  “Of course,” Sierra replied, nudging Cedrick.

  “Hi, Mr. Weiss,” Cedrick extended his hand. “It’s so good to see you.”

  Mitch shook his hand, then pulled him into an embrace, placing a kiss on Cedrick’s cheek. “How’re you doing, son?”

  “Good. Please, come in.” Cedrick stepped aside, thankful for the physical contact because the first thing he saw was a cop from his hometown. The embrace reminded Cedrick of the Mitch he knew as a kid. A caring and outspoken man who took time with the neighborhood kids to keep them on the right track. Mitch took them camping, to baseball games, and fishing at Pyramid Lake. Those outings were the childhood memories he cherished.

  “I couldn’t leave my dad by himself for the holiday. I hope this doesn’t cause any problems,” Cedrick overheard Victoria whisper to Sierra.

  “None at all,” Sierra replied. “I’ll have Carrington set an extra place at the table.”

  “Pardon my manners,” Victoria apologized. “This is Cedrick’s wife, Sierra and this is my dad, Mitch.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Sierra extended her hand, but Mitch pulled her into a light embrace.

  “Likewise,” he said with a warm smile.

  Priscilla walked into the front room using a cane for support as Lena crawled close behind. “Mitchell Weiss,” she said, annunciating every syllable of his name. “I’d know that voice anywhere.”

  With a huge grin, Mitch released Sierra and walked over to Priscilla. She dropped her cane and wrapped both arms around him. “It’s been too long,” Mitch said in a voice soft with affection, kissing Priscilla on the cheek, his lips lingering long enough to make Cedrick, Sierra, and Victoria glance at one another with a curious smirk.

  Cedrick sidled up to Victoria and asked, “Did we miss something?”

  “You tell me,” she whispered.

  All this time, Cedrick had been concerned with Mitch being the police. Him figuring out what happened and taking him to jail. Maybe Cedrick should’ve been asking why his mother wasn’t concerned about Mitch finding out. What had been going on between them? When did it start, and did his father know? How did it continue? Mitch hadn’t been around after they left Reno. Or had he?

  “Daddy. Who are these people?” Carrington asked, entering the living room?

  Cedrick squatted, picking up Priscilla’s cane, then draped an arm across his daughter’s shoulder. “This is my childhood friend Ms. Victoria and her dad, Mr. Weiss.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Victoria said, extending her arms to hug Carrington, but she stayed at her dad’s side.

  “Hello, Ms. Victoria,” Carrington said with a small wave.

  Cedrick glanced down at Carrington. “You’re not going to give her a hug?”

  “No,” she responded, her voice firm, but not disrespectful.

  Cedrick’s eyes shot over to Sierra who had been watching the interaction. She shrugged, bending to scoop up Lena.

  “It’s okay,” Victoria remarked, giving Carrington her attention. “I don’t hug strangers either, but by the end of the night, I won’t be.”

  Everyone washed their hands and took a seat around the dining room table. Cedrick blessed the food, then carved the turkey.

  “Is this the legendary smoked turkey Sierra told me about?” Victoria asked, putting collard greens on her plate.

  Cedrick chuckled. “Sure is,” he replied, cutting several slices before placing the tray on the table.

  “Thanks for having us.” Mitch smiled at Priscilla. “This is the first-family style Thanksgiving I’ve had since Doris died.”

  Victoria rubbed her dad’s back. “I miss mom, too.”

  “I didn’t know your mom passed. Sorry for your loss,” Cedrick said, glancing at Victoria.

  “It’ll be four years on December first,” Victoria recalled, leaning her head against Mitch’s shoulder. “Thanksgiving and Chr
istmas haven’t been the same since.” She put her focus on Carrington and Lena. “Enjoy your momma. Treat her right, always. You only get one.”

  Sierra and Victoria shared a compassion filled smile.

  “What about daddies?” Carrington asked, stuffing a devil egg in her mouth. “They’re special too.”

  “They most certainly are,” Sierra added, leaning over, pecking Cedrick on the lips. “You girls struck gold when God chose this man to be your father.”

  Cedrick winked at Carrington, and she giggled.

  “Do you miss your daddy?” Carrington asked Cedrick, wiping the crumbs from her mouth with a napkin. “You never talk about him.”

  Cedrick glanced at Sierra with alarm. This was not the conversation he wanted to have, especially not now.

  “My dad died when I was a teenager–––”

  “I didn’t know that.” Victoria gasped, dropping her fork in the plate.

  Mitch faced Priscilla, his eyes the size of tambourines. He opened his mouth to speak, but Priscilla slightly shook her head. Had Cedrick not been paying attention, he would’ve missed the movement.

  “Was he sick like Papa Lou?” Carrington asked, staring at her daddy.

  Cedrick didn’t know how to answer his daughter’s question. She’d never asked about her grandfather. Sierra’s dad was larger than life up until the day he died from a ruptured brain aneurysm. Papa Lou loved those girls just as much as he did.

  “Let’s talk about something else,” Sierra suggested, offering Carrington another serving of cranberry sauce. “It’s okay to remember those who’ve gone before us, but let’s be thankful for the family that’s still here.”

  “Priscilla,” Mitch said, touching her hand with an unreadable expression. “Does–––”

  “And let’s be thankful for old friends.” Priscilla smiled at Mitch, placing her other hand on top of his and squeezed.

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Cedrick commented, swallowing the oversized lump in the middle of his throat.